


Epevar's Cyrodiilic Exploit: The Fighter's Guild

by Wickodizzimus



Series: The Epevaric Saga [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Altmer (Elder Scrolls), Fighter's Guild (Elder Scrolls), Historical Reenactment, Other, Retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29944956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wickodizzimus/pseuds/Wickodizzimus
Summary: Epevar invites you to listen yet again, as he recounts his time spent working with the Fighter's Guild in Cyrodiil. Though for Epevar, it was rather unpleasant to say the least.
Relationships: Mishaxhi's Cleaver/Maglir
Series: The Epevaric Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029684
Collections: The Elder Scrolls





	Epevar's Cyrodiilic Exploit: The Fighter's Guild

Epevar's Cyrodiilic Exploit: The Fighter's Guild

"Ah welcome back my friend! It's been a while hasn't it hm? Well, let's not dawdle any further yes? Come in, come in! I'm sure it's freezing out there no? Well come on, have a seat!"

"So, how have you been huh? The kids, the wife, the eh, pets?"

"Oh. Well ah no worries friend. I'm sure you'll find happiness soon! Ah, um, now what was it you wanted to come here to ask me?"

"My. I, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I must've misheard you, uh, could you repeat that by chance?"

"You. So you did. You did indeed ask me that. I see. Er, may you excuse me for one moment? Just a bit of fresh air, fresh winter air, yes!"

"......"

"BLASTED NINE! TO WHAT SHOULD I OWE THE HONOR OF HAVING TO RECOUNT THE EVER SO HEROIC TALES OF MY DUTIFUL TIME SPENT WITH THE ILLUSTRIOUS GUILD OF FIGHTERS! AKATOSH RUE THE DAY HE EVER SET FOOT NEAR ME! CURSES TO THAT FETID PIECE OF GUAR DUNG FOR ALLOWING ME TO LOWER MYSELF TO SUCH BARBARIC WHIMS!"

"........"

"My apologies friend. So. You wanted to hear about my time spent with the Fighter's Guild of Cyrodiil? And how I managed to rise through the ranks to achieve the status of Guildmaster? Of course. You are the guest, and I pride myself on trying to be a good host. So if you want a story, then by all means, you'll get a story. Shall we begin?"

"Great."

The Fighter's Guild. Oh how I dread ever having to visit those cesspools of bickering and bashing! 

Go here!

Go there!

Kill this!

Kill that!

All starting with a rat. That woman and her rats! Pesky little hideous demons! Disgusting creatures better off being eaten alive by the poor mountain lions!

Boooooo hoooooo.

Boooooo hoooooo.

Oh how she cried and cried and cried! Make it stop! Make it stop! My rats, rats, rats! Oh drats, to have slit her throat would have ceased the drivel about a bunch of bloody rats!

Boooooo hoooooo!

Boooooo hoooooo!

Just pipe down! Your rats live for now. But let's help each other out, just give me names before you pout! So off I went to visit the hunter.

The hunter was home, off we went, to save rats! Drats! What have I gotten myself into? Honor my backside! Grunt work for sure.

Anvil behind us, lions up ahead. The dread, the dread. Slaughtered the lot, and then some. Never did come to hate cats. But oh how I hated those rats!

Beady eyes!

Piercing glares, with sharper stares!

Mangy fur!

Filthy cur!

Back to the woman we went. Thanks yet spent! 

BOO HOO!

BOO HOO!

OH NO NOT THE RATS! AGAIN DO THEY FALL, IN THE BASEMENT! THE BASEMENT! WHATEVER TO DO?

Quiet! Can hardly think! The stupid things will live if she shuts her mouth.

Mouth closed, sword raised, and a burning rage.

HA! TAKE THAT! BEGONE FOUL CAT! FORGIVE ME NINE! Oh please do forgive me.

The lady pleased, but not ready to smile, gave me a mission, said to be worthwhile.

Spying!? I'm a fighter, not your pet! But the money still rested out of my pocket. Have it your way. Suspicion is to be raised and smite thusly!

Went around back. Caught no rat nor cat but a lizard, how about that? Stop right there! The jig is up!

Unfortunately.

Though woe had caught the scaly woman, and guilt set in soon after.

An offering? Do tell! Anything to rid me of this rat rotting hell! What's that? Acrobatics? To bound high and fast without a scratch, just to protect your reputation? A deal it is. Enjoy the impunity! 

Back to the wretch, money in my pocket, back to my guild, advancement to socket.

Apprentice! Yippee! Happy days! Happy Days!

What could possibly be next? A shopkeep? Simple! Thefts will be a thing of the past!

Hauled over, and ready to fall over, but beaming for the sake of riches and fame! 

Soon! 

Soon!

But no. Such a thing never came.

A smelly hovel of a shop, sitting out on the docks. Thieves! Burglars! Bandits! Oh weep and cry, but my blade might make your tears dry.

Don't you worry! They won't see it coming.

And it's true. They didn't.

Shopkeep absconded. Shop abandoned. Petty squabbles at the ready, and blade held steady.

Thief!

Thieves!

Thick as three!

But became one after we met. With blood spilt upon on an unwary bet. They tested my arm, I tested their reflexes. A fair wager? Bah! Luck is a sham! Skill trumps idiocy!

Welcome back home! Apologies for the mess. But what of my success? Yes, oh yes, you recognize the mess? Men once under your roof? Men once trusted by you when you were aloof? A problem no more, and a payment to score! Pity a drag when there's coin for my bag!

Back to the guild. Appreciation kept null.

Out! Out! Contracts aren't fruit!

Go to the Orc, he'll give you the boot.

In Cheydinhal no less? That city is the best! But that story will just have to rest. Be patient, and good things will come.

Hogwash! I don't believe in such things. Know why? Because when I say it, it's true! Eh, any who.

To that smelly barbarian I came to see, and oh my eyes regret joining me. Ugly bastard, but his rank made him master, and to that I had to obey.

Obey I did. Sure. But like it? Not on your mother's grave! A real rude one that ogre! Orc maybe, but could've fooled me, called me meat even! But fine, what's there to be done this time around?

A weapons shipment? Sounds fair. What's the catch? Nothing yet? Then let's see what we get. Three pieces indeed, for the warriors in need.

Desolate Mine. Hadn't heard of it.

Wish I had.

Arrival at last! A brisk jog for sure. But nothing I hadn't seen before. Instead, there were faces I wish I hadn't seen before, let alone again.

Goblins.

Goblins!

GOBLINS!? 

Pinch me, punch me, kick me, crunch me! Grind my bones to dust and let my equipment rust! What a joke! Smelly old wastes of life. Draped in tattered cloth, and wielding crude bludgeons, never again do I want to see one start budging! 

Back off!

Step away!

You can spit and snarl when you're dead and gnarled! 

Gone were the watchdogs, but trouble could be smelled just moments ahead. I wasn't happy, but at least I wouldn't be sour alone.

Three recruits, ha what a number! I was already sick of it. Take your bloody weapons! It was time to kill the creature equivalent of dirt.

A plucky elf accompanied us. Charming fellow, hated the blasted beasts almost as much as me. Maybe more so.

But off we went! Into the pungent hole of leathery skinned devils we delved. 

So what happened?

CUT A BLOODY SWATHE RIGHT THROUGH THOSE REPULSIVE RAT WRANGLERS. CHOPPED AND CLEAVED THROUGH EACH LAST BRITTLE BIT OF BONE HARBORED BY THE DEATH DEFYING DOGS! SMASHED IN EVERY LAST PATHETIC SKULL UNDER OUR COLD STEEL BOOTS.

And by the Nine.

It was good.

By the Nine.

It.

Was.

Good.

But with goblins gone, and the number intact with the battle then won, payment was at hand! With advancement resting soundly in soft sands!

Journeyman! Huzzah! What an honor!

Not even close. Bother me otherwise.

What's next! How anxious I was to invest!

Back to Chorrol? 

Back to Chorrol.

Back to bloody Chorrol.

So be it! Chorrol I went, and Chorrol I did indeed see. Chorrol eventually I had resided thusly.

Vilena Donton.

The catalyst.

Started this whole bloody thing! Got me to run! Got me to sing! Sing a song oh sing the song of praise and tribute to brothers I would salute. Praise and long life be for the ones who struggle most with pain and strife. Hail to our saviors! Hail to our warriors! But mostly, hail to the intrepid guildmaster! To guide my strong right arm with true and just intent.

In my dreams maybe! The hag never did anything for me!

Modryn may have put it best.

Raw.

I was meat. A puppet for the guild of failing halfwits and underpaid rookies! Was it any surprise that a brother would default? I certainly don't think so.

Vilena sent me to Modryn.

Modryn to Maglir.

Maglir to brimming frustration, and a severe hatred of hard headed bosmer!

Slimy rodent! Truly would've done better six feet under, if not a sewer to attest for his best.

Defaulted why? Pay was there. The fee was fair. I can tell you though.

Laziness! 

Lazy, lazy, lazy bastard!

It's no wonder that bosmer make for notorious thieves! This one had stolen any good reason for me to not cut him down where he stood!

But the contract kept the last reason intact. So his head would remain attached and yet bashed. 

Talos? I'm no nord, but grant me this! Grant me the chance I deserve to reduce this wood warrior to twigs!

Calm. Breaths had. Listened to him out of obligation to my contract, nothing more. So what was said?

Corpses were a chore. Retrieving a journal though? What a bore.

Coward! Bet a fish could've scared him out of his boots! 

So to Fallen Rock Cave I was headed.

Rotting flesh, walking bones, and unsightly specters somberly sauntering their sarcophagi? Hmph! To say the dead can't die again? You'd be mad.

A simple flick and swish and that book was mine in no time! 

Straight back to Modryn.

Pleased if not impressed. Good enough, got the coin. What's next?

Drunken reprobates in Leyawiin sullying the great name of the Fighter's Guild!? I won't stand for it! Not one bit! Those drunken swill-sloshers will wish they were never born when I'm through with them!

Wait.

Leyawiin?

Oh just who do they think I am anyway? There isn't a potion in the world that would keep me running around with a smile on my face for the tasks I was graced.

But fine, to Leyawiin! To go and teach a bunch of dizzy minded layabouts that alcoholic ventures were not the solution!

Surely they wouldn't notice a bottle or two slipping loose off a table and into my hands?

I bloody well deserved it.

Ah but work was beginning to falter, and pay was beginning to slip. 

I see.

Find it! 

Find it!

Find it, and may the intoxication come to a temporary reduction.

But then where does one find work for the ogling oafs of unemployment?

The Mages Guild of course.

Margarte the savior! Margarte the cleanser! Margarte the only well worth a sodding septum in the eyes of fetchers!

"Ah um not fetcher as in the slang used by most Dunmer. Eh, fetcher as in er, quite literally fetching ingredients…"

Fetchers the lot of them!

The lot of them, fetchers!

But oh it was no trouble. Reaching out to help my brothers in arms. No trouble. Ask away Margarte.

Ectoplasm!

Five portions full

Grab it!

Get it!

Take it!

Snatch it!

Me? 

ME!?

Them! They do it! They're the ones! Tell them! 

The messenger hadn't earned even the faintest nugget of pity.

I was the messenger.

Pity.

But fine. Ghosts. Specters. Wraiths. I'll have at them!

Eh. Wherever they are. The church you say? Who said that? Me. I did. It was a guess.

A damn good one too.

Five filled full! Full was five to the brim filling the hull! Filled was the full of five!

Five ghosts.

Five portions.

Happy now? They earned their work as much as I did mine!

Humbled by Margarte, returned shortly thereafter to the bunched up boobs bobbing for beverages a plenty.

Work for all! Work for days to come! But more work was to be done. Made their work look like giddy fun. But get the grunt to piss about and you won't have barkeeps willing to shout.

To Modryn! 

Woah! Watch your tongue dunmer! That part of this story hasn't come to flourish.

But oh yes. Advancement?

Swordsman! Huzzah! I expected nothing less.

To what do I owe this pleasure?

Azzan or Gro-Kash?

Oh.

Joy.

Fine! So be it.

Gro-Kash. Let's get the worst of it out of the way.

Cheydinhal yet again. The journeys feel like they never end. If my feet were alive, they'd have me executed for heinous treason.

What is it now? 

Biene Amelion?

Fine, sounds simple.

Good evening to Biene! And what a fine evening indeed.

But no.

It wasn't.

Rain was pouring from every which way, but even the soaked steps seemed more pleasant than work.

A tomb or a price?

*sigh*

Take it you fool!

The money was now hers. Paid her debts, and shut her up.

Back to Gro-Kash. Yeah yeah I know. Money be damned, I wasn't about to risk my neck for some mud dragging peasant!

Oh that was rude.

Oh how little I care though.

Oh. No work. Pity. Azzan? Sure. Let me be off then.

To Azzan! Huzzah! My legs were killing me! 

Evening redguard. What is there now?

Oh no.

Let it be a dream.

Maglir!?

The defaulted wood elf of burden. The defiler of good pay. The scum of bosmer to come! 

Maglir.

Fine. So be it. What's the contract's demands?

Local thefts?

Hmph. Easy.

And don't you smile at me like that you rosy cheeked bastard! I'm not your guardian! Back off bosmer!

To Newheim! The Portly. Quite a tasteful fellow.

A lost flagon? How honorable! 

Finally. A worthy task. This one would've been nice.

Would've been. But a particular elf had to tag along.

So off to a cave in the middle of nowhere to recover a flagon for a drunk and put an end to a crime ring.

Huh. Sounds almost worthy when said out loud.

Almost.

It was easy enough. Low rate scum looking for a fight. They got one. It was the last they'd get.

Found the flagon!

Time to get compensated thusly.

Compensation! Ah, big things for us both. I'm sure those things did come.

Oh and to Newheim, for the flagon goes to the drunkard!

Back to Modryn? It better be good.

Well it was different. 

Viranus Donton. The guild master's son. The only one left under the sun after Vitellus's life was said and done. Sheltered beyond fairness, Modryn wanted to help. So help he would give.

Through me! Not my son! Not my brother! Why couldn't he go? It was his blasted idea! Should've been his responsibility!

But oh, I'm so forgetful, I am after all, the meat.

I'll handle this. I'll persuade the shielded sword.

Successful it was, so to a cave we went. To hone skill, chip away at patience, and find some dead fool at the bottom of a rocky prison.

But something stunk. The first thought was goblins, the revelation was trolls.

Bloody.

Trolls!

That does it! A whole damned earthen crypt of pungent brutes! Blast it all!

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five…

Six….

Seven…..

Eight……..

Ni-OH JUST LET US BE THROUGH WITH THIS NONSENSE!

Finally the fool is spotted and sobs had all around. Boo hoo. Boo hoo. Yes yes, now abscond from this stench ridden hole of desperation! There's due payment to be had!

Modryn was pleased enough if not disappointed to hear of Galtus Previa's death. But he had it in his heart to gift me a rather charming blade as compensation.

That fetched a nice price.

Thank the Nine that it was Modryn to give me the next task thusly, but that's all that I'd be thanking the Nine for that day.

Our favorite wood elf was back in business. If there was one thing that I could've respected Modryn for, it was his disdain towards that nasty tree hugging swindler Maglir!

Maglir!

Even the name could make a man wretch!

For the third time that month, Maglir had been a thorn in the guild's side ever since he entered. I held no love towards that mundane assembly of warriors scattered about the country, but I wasn't going to let some bosmer layabout twist my arm!

I'll gladly scour through Bravil to get my hands on that pesky rat!

I wasn't tired anymore. I was furious! And if the law got in my way then I'd say I was just curious!

Curious to see what an elf's skull would look like when it was mounted onto the diplomatic end of my righteous blade!

Finally my enraged appendages had brought me to Bravil, all that was left was to find the festering wart plaguing the thick skin of the guild I reluctantly served.

But where does one hide folks who won't abide?

Taverns.

Drunken stupors aside, I respect an establishment worth its weight in quality brews and warm beds.

What I don't respect are infestations of said establishments.

The Lonely Suitor Lodge. 

Well. I expected worse.

Fine choices aside, Maglir was moments away from me. 

Defaulted! Yes I dare to talk about it you worm! I might be a dog to my guild but at least I don't toss and squirm! 

If given the chance, I would've reduced that malicious malcontent into a pile of blood and ash. But this wasn't the Dark Brotherhood. I had a solid oath to uphold.

Solid my left foot!

But it was as it is and hence a bosmer's head remained attached for the time.

The dirt sent me to Aryarie to pick up where he left off. What scared him that time? It's that which I scoff.

Imps.

You heard it right, no need for a fight, imps in a cave be it day or night.

Ten gall, for coins tall, but the bastard ran away and let his honor fall!

The incompetence of that man was dizzying at best, and rage inducing at the worst.

I will kill him.

But there were imps to befall that fate first and foremost.

So be it.

A skip, a hop, a strut, a jog, and a sprint or two later, I found myself at the breeding ground of miniature warlocks at last.

Need I say it?

Grunt's a word that wouldn't begin to portray it.

Ten pinches made ten cinches. Aryarie pleased, a job fulfilled, and a wood elf yet killed, I returned to Chorrol.

Modryn decided to come around, and fill me in on details concerning our rival.

The Blackwood Company. Started small, but grew to make Fighter's Guild crawl.

Before moving on, aha, advancement!

Defender he said. Bear it proudly, he also said.

I really didn't.

After that quick celebration, I was invited into his abode after hours to discuss the matter of their rivals further.

When night did grace, my feet did race, and I was off to learn for as much as I yearned.

Hmph. Finally something of interest? 

Maybe.

Please?

Modryn filled me in quickly upon arrival. The target and our means being disclosed swiftly. Blackwood began with Azani's interference, and Modryn was ready to figure it all out.

Azani Blackheart, holed up in some dingy ruin, and Modryn would hole up in Leyawiin upon my agreement.

So I agreed.

I just had to agree.

Made it to Leyawiin, huzzah!  
Rendezvoused with Modryn, huzzah!  
Went to Arpenia, stronghold of Azani, huzzah!

Empty….

Huzzah….

No matter! Just northeast would Azani truly lie!

Pick up the pace old man! You've been slugging behind for the past eight hours!

By the time we even got to the next ruin over, you'd swear you'd spent a good year moving your legs to the pace of Modryn's.

No matter.

We went through the decrepit dungheap traps and goons alike. It took an age! But we caught up to that slimy redguard eventually, and put him down where he stood. 

Would've put up a fight too even.

If he had known who he was dealing with, and how tired I had become of all the walking. Walking. Walking.

Presented the ring to Modryn, we could prove it was we who killed Azani, and updates would come soon thereafter for more work concerning my prowess in executing these most illustrious missions.

Oh! And I was then made a Warder!

Such joy.

Took refuge in the nearest inn I could set my sights upon, and slept off what felt like a century's worth of work. Dreadful nap really.

Since Modryn wasn't in need of my help as of yet, I figured I'd set off to Anvil in the morning to see what could be done before then.

What fun.

Greetings redguard. What's it this time?

Elante of Alinor? 

Sounds queer.

But fine. The task?

A daedric shrine to be studied in the dark, dank, underground for scholarly pursuit?

I'm.

Just.

Thrilled.

I thought I was done with daedric hullabaloo! But no no no! Why would I be?

So be it! I'll help the estranged scholar. She had better be a looker.

Eh. Not bad. But a real snob I imagine, scholars usually are.

One, two, three, oh just kill me. I'll give the daedra credit for putting up a fight, but they weren't much better than the altmer blight. 

Blabbering and bumbling, whimpering and fumbling. Escorting that floozy was more than a doozy.

But somehow we had made it where she wanted to be, and I was paid for the job wholeheartedly.

Thank you, and good day, may we never meet again. I was off to see Gro-Kash for what I could only dream was my last backbreaking bend.

It was not.

The orc was no more impressed than when we first locked gazes, but he still had work for the likes of my phases.

Fugitives quadrupled, causing a stir.

Bloodmayne Cave.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Just like that, I was out the door. Common crooks, nothing less, nothing more.

Hello smelly orc! A promotion in order? Maybe they'll send me across the border.

But no.

Guardian rank.

Huzzah?

Oh who gives a damn.

The ranks were about as impressive as the jobs I had taken upon myself to complete.

They weren't.

But ah! How silly, Modryn must need me! Off to see my new favorite dunmer.

Why my favorite? Do Maglirs default?

Regardless, I wanted to be through with this drivel as soon as I could muster, so at least I could die feeling a little less lackluster.

Good day Modryn! What work is to be had?

Viranus Donton missing?

Oh. How sad.

What do you need? Please lay it on me?

Forsaken Mine? Easy as one, two, three.

I'll be back, Oreyn! Just you wait, this shouldn't take but a moment's fate!

Oh.

Gods.

No.

Trolls.

Again.

I pressed on though, raunchy beast or not, and eventually my destination is exactly what I got.

Finally I saw him, bloodied and broken. 

Viranus Donton died with his token.

A journal describing his final hour, shortly before things had gone sour.

Mercs brought his death through. Now I had to tell Oreyn if he were to see too.

Apologies Oreyn, but the fool was dead! Don't have much proof, so here's a journal instead.

Rank amateurs! The man says it best.

So what now?

What's next?

What will be our final test!?

Azzan or Gro-Kash.

Azzan.

Or Gro-Kash.

AZZAN.

OR.

GRO-KASH!?

YOU SLICK DUNMER DIRTY BLOOD! IF I HADN'T THE RIGHT SENSE IN MY SKULL NOT TO, I WOULD HAVE HACKED YOU TO INDECIPHERABLE BITS!

GRO-KASH! LET'S TALK! LORD RUGDUMPH? IT'S DONE

LORD RUGDUMPH! LET'S TALK! YOUR DAUGHTER? IT'S DONE.

AWAY FROM THE ORC YOU FOUL OGRES.

I SAID.

AWAY.

FROM THE ORC.

BLOATED BEASTS OF BURDEN. DEAD BUT NOT HURTING.

LORD RUGDUMPH, HAVE EASE.

GRO-KASH, SHE IS SAFE.

DISAPPEARANCES AT HARLUN'S WATCH YOU SAY? CONSIDER IT DONE.

GOOD MORNING, GOOD EVENING, AND GOOD NIGHT! THE CAVE BELOW? THAT IS YOUR PLIGHT?

DONE AND DONE.

WISPS AND TROLLS BE DAMNED. NOTHING WILL STAND WHEN I'M THROUGH.

HARLUN'S WATCH IS SAVED! 

HUZZAH!

HUZZAH!

JUST SEND ME TO AZZAN!

AZZAN! LET'S TALK! THE STONE OF ST ALESSIA? IT'S DONE.

GOOD EVENING BRUMA CHAPEL. THIEVES YOU SAY? IT'S DONE.

KHAJIIT, TELL ME WHAT I SEEK! FRIENDS DEAD? OGRES TOOK IT? THANKS FOR NOTHING FRIEND.

DEAD KITTY CAT WENT SPLAT AND I TOOK OFF TO THE RUINS HOLDING OGRES.

OGRES.

DEAD.

STONE.

RETRIEVED.

CIRROC! LET'S TALK! THE STONE? TAKE THE BLOODY THING!

AZZAN! LET'S TALK! HUZZAH TO ME! WHAT'S THAT YOU SAY?

CHAMPION!? 

Oh. Well. Actually. That's quite flattering. Ah um. Thank you.

*ahem* NOW TO THAT BLASTED DUNMER TO WRAP THIS ALL UP.

MODRYN OREYN! LET'S TALK! GLADEMIST CAVE? AJUM KAJIN? FINE! CONSIDER IT DONE!

"Phew I think uh, I think I've gotten it out of my system some. I um. Yes. Yes. Let's continue."

Blackwood Company, standing loud and proud. Every which wall as I dug into the bowels. 

Hello.

Good evening.

How do you do?

That's a nice bow.

And some nice shoes too.

I'd prefer not to die.

SO I CAN KILL YOUR ENTIRE CREW.

Bastards had me up to my chin in blood stains and rock wall scrapes! Do you know how many blasted argonians with bows littered that musky hole!? Enough to have driven lesser men up the wall!

But I am no lesser man.

My sanity intact, and my wounds kept minimal, I ventured deeper to dispose of these criminals.

One after another, like plucking feathers from an unsuspecting avian, I eventually made it to the man in question.

Ajum Kajin was mine, and he willingly surrendered considering the circumstances.

Easy money! We'll expose the Blackwood Company in no time flat!

But it didn't go quite like that.

Lead the slippery bastard straight into Modryn's home. 

Sat him down.

And began to talk.

Had to make a mess of my knuckles and Modryn's unwary floorboards. But eventually, that slimy freak began to pipe up.

He gave us his numbers.

He gave us his leader's name.

Then he gave us a dead end!

That imbecile killed himself right before our very eyes! 

Put on some magic ring of self infliction, and burst into flames spontaneously thereafter!

Lousy argonians!

Now with a corpse duly in the home, our lead had gone cold.

Well.

Quite literally.

But the info acquired from the limp worm of a mortal, sufficed for our needs. All we had to do now was infiltrate the guild rat's home.

BLACKWOOD COMPANY! LET'S TALK!

I was then in the seat of their power. Right in Leyawiin, under the roof of our rival.

My word! It was magnificent! Their armor and training hall was all so enticing!

But of course, good things never last huh?

Incognito, ready for anything. Lay it on me Blackwood!

I wasn't ready.

Taken into the training hall, I was offered Hist Sap.

The legendary liquid of the Hist Trees in Blackmarsh. To argonians, it was like moon sugar is to a khajiit. To anyone who hasn't endured the bile.

It was a nightmare.

Job was simple.

Go in. Liberate the settlement of Water's Edge, and leave.

Simple?

No.

Goblins. 

Dirty.

Nasty.

Degenerative filth right?

Wrong. Goblins infested Water's Edge for sure, but that's just what I saw.

I woke up to Modryn soon after the town had been cleared out. He said some guild brothers had found me and brought me to him.

What had happened?

What of Water's Edge?

I was told to check. So I did.

The whole town was wiped out.

There was one sole survivor.

Marcel Amelion.

The father of Biene Amelion.

The man was in shambles.

Who was responsible for this? He pestered and questioned but I could not abide.

I was responsible.

Those goblins never existed. 

They were people the whole, bloody, time.

For the first time in the entirety of my time with the Fighter's Guild, I had only then felt great sorrow. Not dread. But like a chunk of my soul got ripped out of me.

Assassins take the lives of any, innocent or otherwise.

Murderers kill for sport.

The night before then, I was a murderer without knowing it.

But the night ahead, I swore I would avenge them.

MODRYN! LET'S TALK! BLACKWOOD IS GOING DOWN FOR GOOD!

DESTROY THE TREE? IT'S DONE.

GOOD EVENING LEYAWIIN, PEST CONTROL HAS ARRIVED!

GOOD EVENING BLACKWOOD COMPANY! IT'S HIGH TIME YOU JOINED YOUR GRIMY ANCESTORS!

AH! GOOD EVENING RI'ZAKAR! HOW NICE IT IS FOR YOU TO MAKE MY BLADE'S ACQUAINTANCE!

What's this? A key? Must lead into the basement no?

To the basement!

BY THE NINE!

Before me was a sight to behold for sure.

A tree, one of the hist tree's to be exact. Fully alive and well it seemed. Surrounded by alien machinery the likes of which resembled that of the dwemer's very own machinations. It was being harvested by said machinery by the minute, and tended to accordingly by two argonians.

It was beautiful.

It was tremendous in it's scale and the awe it brought with it. 

It.

It was.

IT WAS A PERVERSION OF NATURE! I MUST PUT AN END TO THIS MADNESS! A MONSTROSITY OF THIS SEVERITY WAS TO BE DESTROYED FORTHRIGHTLY!

I SLAUGHTERED THE LAYABOUT LIZARDS WITHOUT SECOND THOUGHT, AND JAMMED TWO LARGE LUMPS OF METAL INTO THE GEARS OF THAT HIDEOUS BEAST!

It was done. The tree was in ruins, set aflame by the very contraptions surrounding it.

The lunacy had run its course.

I could finally breathe. Oh how the air was so refreshing! 

I left with a smile on my face, and a warm fire now settling in my stomach where once a burning rage had taken residence.

It was all over.

Say. Who's this?

Ah. Hm. I see. One last rodent come to see it's end through? 

I understand.

MAGLIR! THAT PUTRID RUNT! SICKLY LOOKING BIT OF BOAR DROPPINGS! NO GOOD COMPANY PIG-DOG! UNLOYAL, UNGRATEFUL, UNWORTHY OF THE SUPPLE SPINE HOLDING HIS INFERIOR MIND AND BODY TOGETHER! I COULD'VE SO MUCH AS SNAPPED THAT TWIG IN TWO WITH A GLARE WERE HE NOT WEARING THAT DREADED ARMOR! THERE WAS NARY A SPELL OR INCANTATION THAT COULD'VE STOPPED ME FROM WHAT I DID TO THAT UGLY BARK LICKER! IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN THAT THIS BASTARD SAP SWILLER WOULD BETRAY ME TIME AND TIME AGAIN, I WOULD'VE BEHEADED THAT PATHETIC EXCUSE OF AIR LONG AGO!

Needless to say.

It got er...messy.

I wasn't too sure what was Maglir and what was just a piece of the other corpses scattered about the facility.

Um.

MODRYN! GREAT NEWS FRIEND! THAT BLASTED TREE IS HISTORY!

THE HELM OF OREYN BEARCLAW? 

You're too kind.

Tell Vilena? Oh certainly.

VILENA!

OH HAVE I NEWS FOR YOU YES!

What's that you say?

Reckless?

Foolhardy?

Dangerous?

Oh.

But wait. What's that?

Brave?

Necessary?

Master of the Fighter's Guild?

Master of the Fighter's Guild?

MASTER OF THE FIGHTERS GUILD!?

Vilena. Vilena. You flatter me too much.

*ahem*

MODRYN! I HAVE EXCELLENT NEWS! EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY! WELCOME INTO BEING MY SECOND-IN-COMMAND!

AND, oh.

Ah. Um. Very nice painting friend.

Uh huh.

Um.

THANK YOU MY FRIEND! I WILL DO MY BEST! NOW, GO AND GET CONTRACTS IMMEDIATELY! 

LONG LIVE THE FIGHTERS GUILD!

"Hmph. Yeah. Sure."

"As you maybe could have noticed, that was a much more eh, drastic time of my career. The reward was rather nice though. Just about every week I could receive weekly earnings and updates over the course of the Guild's life. I held no love for it starting off. But eventually, I suppose I came to respect it."

"After all. Free coin is free coin."

"Well I hope you enjoyed my spontaneous bouts of reenactment! Do come again friend, you are always welcome here. Just uh. Well try not to fall asleep."

"I do so hate that."


End file.
